The first time she lost something was a long time ago. Back then the sky was clearer, the air was fresher, the forest seemed to hum whenever she passed through, the sunlight always laid itself gently on her skin, the drip drop of rain gentled her soul, and her lips were permanently smiling. Of course, at the time, she was also still had her hair in pigtails, her teeth were still in braces, and her long unruly hair was a mess (some people even called it a bird's nest). But when she just turned eight, she lost her pet. Her oldest companion that was a part of her household long before she was born. He was more than just a friend; a sibling, someone might even say. That year, she learned a very valuable lesson of losing something, and the fact that death was always around the corner.

She could remember precisely the second time she lost something important, her mental innocence. Looking back, she felt silly over the time that she had spent wailing in her room on her window bench, though she honestly thought that if her pet was still there, she would have gone through all these with grace. Neither her father nor her mother was there due to the fact that they were busy with their own lives, which caused her another mental burden that led her into thinking of no such happiness could ever exist again. The trigger was trivial, really. Her crush went out with someone else, her then-best friend. Even so, at the time, she was unprepared for life's brutal truth: you can't always have what you want. From then on, all she felt was self conscious.

It was quite a few years after that when she lost something again. She supposed there was no way of getting around it, she just had to bear it and move on. What was left anyways? Her childhood innocence, her mental innocence, all gone. Her parents became more emotionally unavailable, her sister basically lived in her own life. All she could do was coming back at her house, looking at the strange creatures that were her parents, and even worse, herself. Her mind became so disintegrated with herself that she became another person that she did not know. What was there for her? She lost herself.

But it did not mean that she lost her hope. Hope was the only thing that she got left in her bones, even if it often hid away in tiny crooks and nooks of her ribs. The only reason to her living was hope. She hoped that her life would turn better, that her eyes would not looking at something strange in the mirror anymore, that her lips would finally lose away its permanent scowl, that she would be able to live again within her own reasons and ways. Alas, everyday she was losing more and more of her small dose of hope, getting eaten by self-doubt, harsh truths, and dismissive friends. What would be left of her, if she lost her hope?

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